


throughout the seasons

by haxxorbitch



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: abuse is pretty strongly applied throughout this, i think theyre friends with natalya ok, i'm very sleepy so forgive errors in tagging, kingdom game bits, post-sokrates leaving bit ):, pre-sokrates leaving bits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:20:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22415386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haxxorbitch/pseuds/haxxorbitch
Summary: happy secret samol sorry for giving sokrates more trauma
Comments: 4
Kudos: 6
Collections: Secret Samol 2019





	throughout the seasons

**Author's Note:**

  * For [torrentialTriages](https://archiveofourown.org/users/torrentialTriages/gifts).



**SEASON OF APOLE**

sokrates nikon artemisios has their first ship.

it is new, it is shiny, and they are absolutely in love with it. they call it _the calliope_ , after the instrument. the best part about it is that the apokine does not know that they own it. the ship is _big._ it’s as big as an entire wing of the apostolosian palace. because of this, they’ve stored it off planet. 

euanthe is glaring out of the window of the transport. sokrates is trying very hard not to pay attention to how angry they seem today, but it rolls off of them like static electricity. sokrates can’t help but stare. there really isn’t any reason for them to be upset. they haven’t seen anything in the news about recent war developments.

euanthe notices them looking after a moment. they turn their glare towards sokrates. “what?” they ask, loud enough to startle cassander into waking up. cass blinks around frantically for a moment they realize where they are, and then they close their eyes again. their eldest sibling doesn’t seem to notice, because they continue with, “why are you looking at me? what in apokine’s name do you  _ want? _ ”

“nothing, jeeze,” sokrates replies, glancing at their kid sibling. “hey, buddy.”

cass mumbles something sleepily that sokrates can’t make out. after a moment, they crack open one eye again. “fuck off, buddy,” they say with a yawn.

sokrates bursts out laughing, but euanthe glowers at cass. “cassander,” they say sharply. “you’re far young and far too dignified to speak that way. see, sokrates, i told you that you’d be a bad influence on them.”

“buddy isn’t a swear word!” sokrates says defensively, trying to keep actual irritation out of their tone. they are also trying to ignore how panicked cass looks, and how they’re glancing about again. “don’t yell at them as if you never said  _ swear words _ as a  _ twelve year old. _ ”

euanthe sighs heavily and glares out the window again. “you  _ know  _ that’s not what i meant. cussing isn’t proper behaviour, and anyway,  _ buddy  _ isn’t exactly distinguished,” as they talk, sokrates makes faces at cass and mouths the words of euthante’s lecture. “you know the apokine isn’t keen on another letdown, don’t you?”

cass is too busy laughing at the faces to see sokrates’ expression drop. euanthe looks back at them to see what the fuss is about, and sokrates plasters on a grin. “yeah, buddy, i know. i’m not too keen on letting cass steal my spotlight either.” 

euanthe pinches the bridge of their nose. “whatever.”

“don’t you mean ‘whatsoever as that may be’?”

euanthe huffs loudly and turns their gaze to the window again. “what exactly are you dragging us all the way out here to see, sokrates? if this is another elaborate plot to get out studying, i’ll be disappointed.”

“we’re just about there now. could you stop the transport right about here?”

“there’s nothing here,” euanthe says, exasperation in their tone.

“i  _ beg  _ you to reconsider. have you never heard of a cloaking device?”

the transport rocks to a halt, and euanthe stares blankly at sokrates. “ _ what?  _ how did you get,” they blink rapidly, something like fear creeping into their expression, “sokrates nikon artemisios, i command you, by the authority of the apokine, to inform me of how you managed to acquire a cloaking device capable of deceiving an apostolisan scanner.”

sokrates laughs and laughs and laughs. “i didn’t,” they reply, grinning. then, they think of another, better lie, and laugh again. “i just turned off the scanner, you’re so high strung.”

“yeah!” cass butts in, “you’re high strung, euanthe!”

“both of you shut up,” euanthe hisses. they turn to sokrates, a storm brewing in their eyes. “you can’t just turn off the fucking scanner,” they say, lowly, forgetting their typical better-than-you mannerisms. 

“uh oh,” sokrates mumbles to cass, “they said the  _ fuck  _ word.”

“listen to me!” euanthe near-shouts. cass' eyes immediately fly to the cargo hold's door. even sokrates flinches. guilt flashes across their eldest sibling’s face for a moment, lightning fast. it’s swallowed up by storm clouds just as quickly. “look, sokrates. this is not a joke. oricon or diaspora forces could be surrounding us right now.”

“they’re not,” sokrates says, avoiding their sibling’s eyes. “i didn’t actually turn it off. the ship doesn’t have a cloaking device, it’s just not within range. we’re at the nearest hyper-space jumpable planet. just, hold on.”

they call  _ the calliope _ , and within minutes, it sails out of empty space. euanthe stares at it through the window. cass seems to forget their fear to gape.

“why do you own that,” euanthe asks flatly. 

“why’s it so  _ big? _ ” cass asks at the same time. 

“why not?” sokrates replies to both. “euanthe, would you care to dock the ship?”

**SEASON OF APOTHESA**

sokrates nikon artemisios is not a cruel person. 

at least, they think they’re not a cruel person. they always point out cruelty on the war council. but then again, they’re  _ on  _ the war council. they tell themself that they’re just damage control. they’re a military research scientist. they were in school for that. people  _ believed  _ them, and because people believed them, lying was easy. if they made up this paperwork and twisted these results and put everything into order, no one fact checked them. they were helping people.

right now, curled against the wall of one of the sea caves, that’s hard to believe. away from everyone else, from the faint possibility of saving lives, they can’t help but feel useless. their efforts hadn’t gotten anyone anywhere. people were still dying, and worst of all, it was their fault. they hated this. they hated the war, the casualties, the bloodshed. no one deserved this.

it’s an overcast day. it’s almost as if the sky and ocean can tell that something awful is brewing. the ocean laps gently at the mouth of the marble and umber cave. sokrates stares at it for a long while. they can feel the chill rolling off the water - the same chill that’s settled into their bones. they lean their head against the rock wall. 

the sky is a different story - thick with dark grey clouds. they were going to go sailing today, to try to get away from it all. the brewing storm seems intent on reminding them of their role in this. they drop their eyes back to the cold waves. 

maybe they’re just bad at being damage control. every attempt at good gets turned around. there’s always some corruptible angle they didn’t see in their pitches. they make up some bullshit about how  _ this  _ oricon base would be a bad idea to attack because it has new countermeasures. the apokine responds by creating attack plans for a diaspora planet before they can come up with another lie.

they’re always making some mistake that gets people killed. the death toll is growing like today’s storm. sokrates can’t help but think about how they always hated storms. euanthe never understood that. they also never understood sokrates’ stance on the war. even as a child, they’d banked against it. 

sokrates cannot see the beach from here. they can remember, though, the first time anyone really explained the war. if they close their eyes, they can practically see euanthe. they were pinching the bridge of their nose that day, saying,  _ it’s for everyone’s good, sokrates. we’re helping people.  _ their voice had sounded like far-off thunder. sokrates hadn’t said much else, because their thunder had been growing closer, but they remembered how they felt. confused and sad.

the sad comes through with much more ease, now. they try to conceptualize the bodies, sometimes. it never works. they know what a hundred people looks like, a thousand, a hundred thousand. this is more than that. the dead are like grains of sand on that beach where they’d stood with euanthe, hiding their feelings. immeasurable, impossible, blended together. treated like a simple but disposable annoyance by the swimmers. 

sokrates sighs heavily and stands. as they do, their holoscreen flickers up in front of them. the sudden and unnatural light startles them into stumbling backwards. euanthe’s face, just as irritated as it had been all those years ago, glares back. 

“hey, bud!” they say, trying to keep their voice cheerful and bright. it must work, because their sibling rolls their eyes. “what’s up?”

“the council meeting started twenty minutes ago, sokrates. where are you?”

they suck in air through their teeth and glance through the holo, at the sea. “i  _ was  _ hacking for intel, my dear sibling. don’t you think that’s more important than being on time?”

euanthe rolls their eyes again. “just get here,” they say, and hang up.

“right,” sokrates says as the line goes dead. “great.”

as they walk down the beach, back towards the palace, thunder rumbles.

****  
  


**SEASON OF APOANTA**

sokrates nikon artemisios thinks that they might be being replaced.

this suspicion begins when a new team of research scientists walk in. they’re dressed fancily. the apokine’s face seems to glow with approval - an expression previously saved for euanthe alone. it grows when the apokine glances back to them. the expression drops the second they lay eyes on sokrates’ sailing clothes.  _ oopsie. _

the apokine sighs in their ‘ _ i’ll yell at you about this later _ ’ way. it’s miniscule and undetectable and absolutely terrifying. sokrates does not let this show on their face, but they do feel anxiety building in their stomach. this takes over most of their mind until they hear one of the new scientists say “potentially wipe out all life”. 

it is with this knowledge that they quietly begin to write things down on their laptop. they, of course, keep their typical game up and switchable-to. but they write down every detail they hear. the more they write, the more horrified sokrates becomes. 

this new team has plans to create a weapon of mass destruction. the apokine is grinning - actually grinning - more and more as they continue to speak. their eyes are so hungry for blood. sokrates can’t help but fear they’d lied to cass, years ago, calming them from nightmares, by saying that monsters weren’t real. some incredibly small part of them feels childishly terrified. 

when the new research team stops presenting, the apokine is still smiling. euanthe is writing things down on a pad of paper that sokrates can’t see. the apokine is still smiling when the meaning is suspended. they are in  _ such  _ a good mood that they don’t yell at sokrates over dinner.

they are even in such a good mood that they throw a last minute party at the palace. sokrates slips out. they see cassander in the gardens that they’re sneaking past. they’re studying instead of at the party, mouth set in a hard line. part of sokrates wants to take them with them, to protect them, but… the apokine would actually care if cass went missing.

it bothers them to not say goodbye, so they leave a note in cass’ room after they’ve finished packing.  _ seeya around buddy i’m off to be an art major or some shit, science is dumb. good luck on your biology test tuesday! love ya - S _

this is a bit of a lie, because sokrates does not have any intentions of being an art major. they  _ do  _ try it, for a year. they keep a very close eye on the weapon development - they had enough bugs in the war council room for it. it doesn’t start production for that year. in fact, sokrates begins to wonder, from their much more quiet university life, if they’d scrapped the idea.

it’s about a year and a half in when that is confirmed to be the exact opposite of true. they wish it wasn’t, but the meeting they watch is undeniable. they take another month to watch and figure out what the hell to do. and then, they take the calliope to the closest diaspora base and walk straight up to the door. there are about a thousand weapons trained on them in seconds - they can hear the buzzing noises and feel the lights.

“hey, uh, let’s cool it on that. i love raves, but i actually have important information on apostoslian movements right now, so, maybe don’t kill me? besides, that’s not even how you kill a fish. i’m pretty sure there’s like, worms involved? i don’t love worms but --”

the weapons don’t lower. sokrates is interrupted by a door sliding open. addax dawn, candidate of the divine peace, stands there. sokrates blinks at the fact that this is an actual important person being sent out to meet them. they would have never thought for a second they’d be that important to anything.

addax looks at them, all steel and justice. “well, you probably want to come in,” he says briskly. his tone is abrasive, but behind it, sokrates could  _ swear  _ they detected something like hope.

“yes, but again, i’m not super fond of worms. do you have like, actual food or anything to put on your hook? because i am so down to die to a good meal.”

addax actually smiles a bit there, before his expression goes flat. “i’m sure that can be arranged. come inside.” sokrates obliges, and the door slides shut behind them.

they’re lead to a room that looks honestly a bit too close to one of cass’ old- _ old _ earth film noir movies. there’s a table in the middle with two chairs on either side. “sit down,” addax says, voice inviting but guarded. “can i get you anything?”

“well, i’m feeling kind of like a fish out of water, so some of that would be fantastic.” sokrates flops into their chair. “will you get all scared and shooty if i take out my laptop? it has the notes and stuff on it.”

“not at all,” addax says, digging through a small cooler that sits against the wall. “there’s only one way out of this room, by the way. it won’t fall to anything short of a nuke. so, your laptop would only serve to kill you and i if it was a bomb.”

“which it’s not. but if it was, cool to know that this place is everything proofed. i’m guessing you won’t tell me  _ how  _ you managed to do that.”

“oh, absolutely not.” addax sits down opposite them and hands them a bottle of water. they drink it slowly, steeling themself. “so, what were these apostolisian movements? and how do you know of them? i was under the impression that the war council was very tight.”

“uh, ok, so. here’s the thing. i’m maybe, a little bit, um, sokrates nikon artemosis, of the royal house pelagios, second-in-line to inherit the title of apokine? which, i know probably does not seem like the truth, but,”

“no, it does. i’ve seen you,” addax says, examining them with a newfound curiosity. there is also a newfound … hatred, they think. which is fair. “in pictures from our spies. you’re not exactly prominent in those pictures, but you’re definitely you.” 

sokrates laughs lightly. “well, thanks for telling me that i’m me!” 

“you’re you.”

“i’m me.”

addax and sokrates look at each other for a moment, and then sokrates starts laughing. addax doesn’t, his face a mask of steel, but sokrates definitely feels a lot more comfortable. addax might absolutely despise them, but at least they’d believe them. more than they could say for the apokine.

“now, sokrates nikon a-”

“no, just sokrates is fine!” they cut in quickly. “just the first one is fine. um. no need for formality. so, i…” they open their laptop and start to type quickly, calling up the notes, then slide it across to addax. “this is… the bare bones of it. i’m sorry it’s not much, i was sort of disoriented.”

addax looks up at them. “this is a trap,” he says, flatly, almost angry. “we’re not that stupid.”

“it… really isn’t,” sokrates says lightly. “i don’t know how to prove it to you. i mean, i’ll come with you to sigillia or apole or wherever, no problem, but you probably think that they know that and that they won’t attack me. which is fine. i’ll stay in the ship, if that helps!”

addax gives them an intense look. “i’ll have to look into this more, but if we do anything about it, you’re not leaving my side for a second.” 

sokrates gives him a thumbs up.

he sits there, staring at them, for another long moment, then types some things into their laptop and hands it back to them. they know immediately he’s bugged it, but say nothing. “i’ve sent it to myself. we’ll give you a room.”

“a prison, you mean?”

addax smiles tightly. “perhaps. before that, though - why are you doing this? aren’t you betraying everything you’ve ever known? your family and your friends? you’ll have absolutely nothing after this if you’re telling the truth.”

sokrates laughs bitterly. “call it greek tragedy, buddy.”

he blinks at them. “you’re … certainly a strange person,” he says, turning to leave. “i’ll send someone back to get you shortly. i have a couple people i need to talk to. i don’t believe you for a second.”

“that’s fine,” sokrates yawns. 

the door shuts behind him. a few moments later, it opens again. he stands in the threshold, still as masked as before.

“oh, and sokrates?”

“uh… yeah?”

“maybe don’t mention to anyone else that you’re a child of the apokine,” he says, glancing behind him. “ it just won’t go over well. say that you’re the child of a council member or something.”

they nod slowly, and the door closes for good.

**SEASON OF APOKINE**

sokrates nikon artemisios swears up and down that they love their older sibling. despite this, they do not react when they’re injured.

they don’t even bother putting on a show for natalya when she strides into the observatory of the  _ calliope _ . she takes off her long, black coat and sets it down on the ground next to them. then, she settles down on it.

the expression she is giving them is not one of concern. natalya doesn’t  _ do _ concern, as far as they can tell. it’s not harsh, either. they quite frankly don’t recall telling her of their royal blood, but she’s smart. the pieces aren’t rocket science to fit together, and they’re pretty sure natalya could do rocket science anyway. 

“sokrates,” she says, softly but firmly. “i need you to tell me this will not fuck you over enough to have you be a liability to the mission.” 

the idea of them grieving and worrying about euanthe feels… strangely foreign to them. it’s not like they’re heartless. if it was cass grievously injured, they might have just gone home and kidnapped them or whatever. but they’d spent far too much time distancing themself from euanthe to even feel upset. 

euanthe was not the same kind of person that the apokine was. they were certainly regal, but they were more impulsive. patience was not a virtue that euanthe had yet mastered. in fact, sokrates would bet anything that’s how they got injured. half of them wonders if they should tell this to their new team, and then they remember natalya is there.

“sorry,” they say sheepishly when they see her annoyed expression. “that wasn’t a grieving space-out, i just kind of do that sometimes.” when her expression turns to disbelief, they sighs dramatically. “not all of us have adhd meds, nat.”

she raises an eyebrow. “you think i have adhd?”

“ok, well, you’re trying to do the spy-fuck-with-me thing, and i’m not having it. i’m so not having it. you totally have adhd and if you don’t think you do, you should like, see a doctor or steal adderall or something.” 

natalya’s eyebrows go even further up.

“you hyperfixate on shit like crazy,” they continue, gesturing with their hands, “it’s kind of obvious. like, not that it’s bad, me too, but you’re like, really obvious about it in a way that people who don’t have adhd are oblivious to but i’ve seen you pacing while you talk and -”

“yes, sokrates,” she cuts them off, “i have adhd.” sokrates does a ‘yes!’ motion with their hand, and silently whoops. “you can stop now, i believe you about it not being a grieving thing. but, i think you’re prone to denial being a factor at play here, and we really can’t have that.”

sokrates puts on their best serious face. “no, natalya, i’m not going to freak out about euanthe being hospitalized. they’ll be fine, but i really don’t have it in me to lose my mind over someone who’s played a part in all this…” they look out at the stars, thinking about the planets beyond, “violence.” 

she nods thoughtfully. “you know,” she says, after a moment, “you don’t have to try to convince me of where your loyalties lie. i’m well aware that they’re to this ship and to this mission.”

now it’s sokrates’ turn to raise their eyebrows. or, rather,  _ one  _ eyebrow, in a very funny looking fashion. natalya doesn’t laugh, which is fine, because they’ve amused themself enough with it. “care to explain or are you just going to do your ominous scientist routine?”

she pushes up her glasses. “ominous scientist,” she says simply.

sokrates laughs loudly and for a long time. once they’ve collected themself, they look at her again. “okay, but seriously this time. how do you know?”

“oh, i keep my fingers in a lot of pies. whatever addax is monitoring i make sure that i’ve got a close eye on. i dug through your files and stuff,” she pauses and smiles slightly at them, “sorry, and it’s pretty clear you don’t want to hurt anyone.” 

“that’s an invasion of privacy that makes me  _ really  _ glad that i set up a proxy computer for the bug.” sokrates smiles broadly.

“a proxy computer that lasted exactly two seconds once i noticed it.” sokrates groans loudly, to which she lets out the softest snort, and says, “but, hey, two seconds is pretty good when it’s me that you’re up against.” 

“well, natalya, thank you for not using the weird shit you found on there as blackmail. i really appreciate it, but if you could ignore the --”

“three am poetry, don’t worry, i know,” she says solemnly. “i didn’t read it at all, sokrates. not even a little bit. i definitely didn’t read it to tea and make fun of you with her.”

“ _ four  _ am poetry!” sokrates says, holding a hand up to their heart. “i wrote that at four am, there’s a  _ difference! _ ”

she smiles at them and stands up. “well, don’t write any about how awful you feel about euanthe. i’ll find out.”

“wouldn’t dream of it,” sokrates says as she picks up her coat. “not even for a second. i’ll write that at five am, like a normal fucking person.”

as natalya leaves, sokrates looks back out at the stars. it was nice to know that they had someone to joke with on this ship. they wouldn’t exactly say they felt like natalya trusted them. in fact, they doubted anyone on the fleet trusted them. in the five days since the ships had gathered, that was the longest conversation they’d had. they’d gone with addax’s lie about being a council member’s kid, but sins of the fathers, they guess.

regardless of anyone else’s trust in them, though, sokrates thinks they really can trust natalya. and that is nice. they’re especially thankful that she didn’t press them on the grieving thing. being seen as cold and heartless in addition to a killer’s kid… not the top thing on their priority list.

the stars stare back at sokrates.  _ trust,  _ they think. they can trust natalya, they can trust that they can end this war, and they can trust that they’ll have more things to trust one day.

**SEASON OF APOTINE**

sokrates nikon artemisios cannot believe it when they see their youngest sibling’s face in the propaganda. 

they look far too sharp. their voice sounds harder than ever before. their eyes have something in them that makes sokrates’ heart drop. this is not their younger sibling who, to their knowledge, had spent the past five years as a medic. cass seems like gravity now, like the chaos of the ocean is raging in their heart.

they’re talking, saying some war message that the apokine must have scripted, but sokrates can barely hear it. they look so  _ angry,  _ so steeled, the words don’t sound like them. nothing about this is right, but then again, they’ve been gone for five years. 

it’s been about three months since euanthe was injured. the fleet has been gathering supplies and personnel, preparing to move out for real. it had taken three years for the concrete proof of actual construction to develop. it’d been another one to figure out just what to do with it. and these past three months, they’d been just patting themselves on the back, thinking that euanthe’s injury was a hit to apostolos.

it wasn’t, obviously, because there was still a fucking scion and sokrates should have taken them with them and they look so  _ wrong  _ now, like all their good had been sucked out of them, like their fear had crystalized into something so much worse. sokrates wants to hug them or hold them or do  _ anything  _ so badly, but they can’t.

it is at this point, when sokrates is hyperventilating, that jace walks into observatory. he pauses, looks at the holo, looks at them, and then drops down at their side. sokrates is trying very hard to get their breathing under control, but that’s their  _ sibling  _ who they promised they’d  _ protect  _ from monsters when they were a kid and they’d just  _ left them with the monsters  _ \--

“it’s not your fault,” jace says quietly, rubbing circles into their back. “you couldn’t have done anything, it’s not your fault at all.” and this is the point where sokrates clocks that they’ve said all of that  _ out loud, _ and also that they’re crying, and also that they’ve barely fucking talked to jace.

“sorry, uh, i was acting,” sokrates says weakly. “you know. for. um. war purposes. yeah.” 

jace gives them a long, quizzical look. “you know you can just say that you don’t want to talk about it and i’ll leave it, right?”

“no, there’s, like,” they wipe their eyes. “there’s nothing really to worry about. i really need to start locking that door, i think. when i come in here to practice my acting, i mean. um. what’d you need, pilot rethal?”

jace laughs lightly. “ _ pilot rethal? _ ” he repeats, incredulously, but good naturedly from what they can tell. “wow, um. just jace is fine, really, no worries.” he continues to rub circles into their back, and given that sokrates hasn’t even had a hug in five years, they can’t really object to it.

“right, ok, hi, jace, i’m sokrates. i mean, i guess you know that i’m sokrates, but i’m sokrates. formalities are honestly so outdated.”

“hi, sokrates, i’m jace.” he says, with another laugh. “now our formalities are out of the way! whoo, yay us! um, are you okay?”

“fantastic,” they reply, wheezing a little. “i’m doing great. what’s up, buddy?”

he scratches the back of his head with his free hand. “uh, i was just supposed to let you know that we’re gonna be moving out in around an hour. i mean, orth was supposed to let you know, but i offered to do it because he seems  _ really  _ stressed and meeting new people can be kind of stressful! not that i’m stressed now, you seem ok, just, um, yeah.”

sokrates chuckles despite themself. in a voice that feels a lot clearer they say, “no, no. don’t worry, i get it. i also would be super stressed out talking to someone as hot as me. it happens to the best of us, orth is fine.”

“don’t you mean pilot godlove?”

“shut up! i forgot the word for captain!” sokrates groans loudly. “have  _ you  _ never fumbled when a famous oricon pilot comes in when you’re having a - when you’re acting a breakdown for war purposes?”

“i cannot say that i have!” jace says brightly. “i mean, pilot maybe but not  _ oricon pilot  _ specifically. unless this counts? i mean, i’m like, a famous oricon pilot, i guess, kind of fumbling.” 

sokrates groans loudly again. “ok, well, it’s a different thing. thanks for letting me know, jace. uh, could you keep my acting between us? and also the role i was acting in? it’s a secret. performance.”

jace laughs again. “yes, sokrates, i can keep your breakdown between us. um, so, i kind of  _ don’t  _ feel like dealing with the rest of the ships, though, would you mind if i chilled out here for a bit with you?”

sokrates knows a ‘i’d feel bad leaving you alone’ when they see them, but honestly, doing this super intense and super demanding mission, they sort of need friends. so, they don’t do the bullshit, ‘no-i’m-fine’ thing. also, again, the actual human contact is really fucking nice. so, instead, they smile broadly, and say, “that’d be awesome, jace.”

**SEASON OF APOTE**

sokrates nikon artemisios disappears.

they don’t know what they were supposed to do, really. there is a beautiful planet in the sky, now, about counterweight. and counterweight is a devastated mess. they try, for a bit, to stay there. they try to celebrate when the war ends. but there is forever weight, hanging in the sky, a reminder of the fact that they did not succeed.

the weapon was still used. even if the damage wasn’t that bad, there was still only dirt and dust and infertile land where there used to be life. sokrates tries to stay on counterweight, but there is the eternal reminder. and every night, they lie awake, looking up, and wondering how badly things could have gone. they remember all the bodies.

the guilt gets too much for them when they realize they could have prevented it, somehow. they don’t know  _ how,  _ but it’s three am on a tuesday night and the thought won’t let them sleep. so, they get up, they pay someone to take them to torru. it costs them quite some kred, being late and far away and essentially abandoned. they’ve got kred to spare. 

they build their own house. it’s a long and difficult process. it’s a process that they keep catching themself on. they manage to befriend some ‘locals’ (who they know are from the rapid evening, of course. they don’t say this, but they recognize natalya’s way of holding herself.) who gladly help them. they don’t know if the agents just want company or to dissuade suspicion, but it’s fine. sokrates kind of needs both.

they farm for a long time. it’s work that euanthe would turn their nose up at. but it is work that is exhausting and rewarding in equal measure. they do not find much time to blame themself during the nights. they manage to sleep, actually. for the most part. 

the war and the weapon never really leave their mind, though. there are the days where sokrates does not work. these are the days that come after the long nights.  _ at least it isn’t every night _ , they tell themself.  _ at least it’s not all the time. at least i helped a bit. _

they worry, quietly, about what would happen if someone found the weapon. would war break out again? would millions more die? were they wrong to not push harder for its destruction? they trust addax, they do, but they worry. also worrying is how ibex disappears just as they did. they  _ know  _ him. they know that he must be working, under the surface, silently, getting ready for  _ something. _

and so, silently, they prepare. for everything, really. they work out responses, bit by bit. they can’t do much to save people on a great scale - thankfully, there aren’t a lot of people who need saving. but they plan for when they might need to be.

it is when they’re in one of these planning sessions that there is a soft knock on the door. they stand from their desk, close the door of their study, and answer. they had not realized it’d gotten dark, but the figure before them takes a few seconds to register in the night.

natalya greaves blinks at them from behind her round glasses. “sokrates,” she says, and smiles. they smile back, though the use of their name throws them off. they hadn’t heard  _ that _ in a bit. “could i spend the night? i had to touch down for,” she pauses, pushes up her glasses, work reasons.”

it takes a moment more for their eyes to adjust. natalya doesn’t look like her normal self. her hair is out of place, and she looks… well, exhausted. she looks like how she looked so many times on the ship, staying up for days to work on tactical simulations. they nod after a moment. “of course you can, nat. no offense, but you look like shit.”

“thanks, sokrates,” she says, smiling tiredly as she steps inside. “it’s nice to see you too.”

“oh, come on,” they say, reaching over to shut the door. “i never said it  _ wasn’t  _ nice to see you. you just look like how a concept artist would make the humanization of late-stage capitalism instead of a mad scientist. you look like a disheveled office worker. you know that really, really old earth show? you look like the chick the stupid boss was fucking.”

she laughs in a way that is concerningly genuine, but does not respond. they lead her to the kitchen, invite her to sit down, and start making tea. “do you need any help with that?” she asks after a moment.

they glance back at her, seeing her fidget. “oh, yeah, i know nothing about water, or water that gets stuff in it. you know, i don’t think i’ve ever seen water in my life. crazy, huh?”

natalya laughs again. sokrates turns back to the tea, frowning slightly. that wasn’t  _ that  _ funny. they trust natalya with all their heart - they  _ know  _ her, and they know that something is up. work reasons, her strange manner, actually laughing at their incredibly shitty joke?

_ oh well _ , they suppose, steeping two of their bitterest teabags into her cup.  _ i’m sure there’ll be plenty of time for that.  _ they make themselves something lemon-tasting and pour in milk and sugar and sit down across from her.

she takes a long sip, then tilts her head back to look at the ceiling. there’s silence for a long beat. sokrates starts to feel uncomfortable in the wordlessness. “is the tea really that bad? because i think i might have spilled fish oil in it. oops.”

natalya looks back at them. “no, the tea’s fine.” she pauses for a moment. “i’m just worried, sorry. things have been intense lately. you’re the most relaxing person i know. i thought i’d visit.”

“oh, so not for work reasons? you lied to me, natalya?” they place a hand on their heart. “i can’t believe you’d ever lie, or be purposefully to deceitful to anyone! why are you even here, miss greaves? do you think i’ll take the bait for whatever spy bullshit you’re on?”

she smiles a bit. the tension seems to leave her shoulders. “how’s both personal reasons and work reasons? i can see my friend while on a business trip.”

“we’re not friends. i don’t even know who you are.”

she takes another sip of her tea. there’s another beat of silence. “sokrates, i think that there’s something i should tell you. i’ve been on ionias for a bit, and…” she trails off, staring into her tea. 

sokrates looks at her, tilting their head. “ionias is a long way away for a work trip, don’t you think?” 

she’s quiet for another long moment, before looking up. “yes, it is. that’s why i wanted to ask you if i could stay here longer than a night. there is something about that place that has just been getting to me. i find it has really been killing my work drive, you know?”

sokrates blinks at her. her sentences seem too short and she seems tense again. she takes another sip, and sighs. “if you wouldn’t mind, i mean.”

“no, it’s fine. i love parasites. you’ll have to share with the bedbugs and tapeworms. stay as long as you’d like.”  _ i have things to ask you when you’re not acting so fucking weird.  _

“thanks, sokrates.” she says, closing her eyes and taking very long sip. she puts her cup down, opens her eyes to look at them, and smiles tightly. she also clearly has a far better grasp on time than them, because she says something they’d sort of forgotten next.

“happy armistice day.”


End file.
